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Drink: a Circle of Denial Story

By: SlaveMasterUK



Author's Note

This story is based on my original erotic novella, Rhiana, from a series that I am now calling "Circle of Denial." If you enjoy this story and want to know more about the Circle of Denial, please read Rhiana, available at my member page.

This story steps subtly outside of my comfort zone. I am not experienced in the field of desperation, but this is something I very much wanted to try. It is based on watersports with a heavy theme on enforced desperation. If you are not interested in this theme, this story may not interest you. There is no actual sex in this story.

Many thanks must go to Francine-frcxa for introducing me to this world of bladder desperation, and to the team at whp, for inspiring me to write another chapter to the Circle of Denial series.

If this story gets enough interest I may follow up with more bladder-stretching adventures featuring Ellen and the mysterious Lady Anira.

* * *

Ellen brushed a stray lock of red-blond hair out of her eyes as she stepped out of the sports car and knelt obediently before Lady Anira. Her fringe had a fly-away nature that had annoyed her intensely when she was younger, but her mistress seemed to have taken a profound liking to it, and never let her cut it shorter than a finger's length, which meant that she was forever brushing it out of her eyes, or swaying her head to try to flick it away.

Doing just that had got her into trouble. A quick flick of her hair the previous day had turned to disaster when she accidentally unbalanced a bottle of Lady Anira's expensive wine from the silver tray that she was carrying, and sent it crashing to the marble staircase. She had stared in horror and disbelief as it tumbled in what looked like slow motion, and felt her heart stop as she pleaded inside that it should not break. Her pleas went unheard, for it smashed open on the marble, ringing a sound that broke the peaceful silence in Anira's home. Vivid yellow wine splashed outwards, landing on Ellen's legs and staining her spotless white shoes and socks. It ran down the staircase and fell over its edge in a yellow cascade, and pat-pat-pattered onto the deep pile of Anira's white carpet.

Lady Anira reached behind her and deftly fastened the leash around Ellen's thin white collar. It looked unobtrusive, even sexy, in a chic way, and it was comfortable, but Ellen hated it. It was made of Flexilon, and it moulded to her pale creamy neck like rubber, just like her little white pants and bra moulded to her hips and breasts like a bikini. It was a smart-fabric -- moulded perfectly to her skin, able to bend and move with it, but like her bra and pants, it was completely irremovable without the special digital key.

When Lady Anira had first taken her as her slave and given her the clothes that marked her servitude, Ellen had been most upset by the collar. She had picked at it for hours on her first night, trying to force her fingers underneath and prise it off, but she couldn't outsmart the smart-fabric. It wasn't long before she came to hate the irremovable pants and bra more than the collar, for not only would they not come off, but they would not transmit more than the faintest touch through to her skin underneath. Some parts of her body longed for attention, and their cries went unanswered, although not unheard.

"Keep up, Ellen." Lady Anira barked, tugging on the leash. "Don't daydream." Ellen stumbled under Anira's grip, glancing resentfully at her from under her bushy brow, jogged to fall into step. She looked up at her mistress -- naturally she was the same height as Ellen, but in her high-heeled boots she was tall, and she was beautiful, her features sharp and elegant, her blue eyes vivid and deep under thin eyebrows. Her chin-length black hair hung by her neck, bouncing with her long strides. Ellen's short legs had a hard job keeping up with Anira, and she reminded herself to jog from time to time, to prevent the leash from running tight and earning another tug.

"Don't hold me up today, slave." Anira said firmly. "You are being punished for staining the carpet."

"Please Mistress, you caned me yesterday!" Ellen mewed, the sting in her buttocks still calling to her from under her white Flexilon panties where she could not rub them better.

"Don't answer back!" Anira snapped. "Yesterday you were punished for breaking the bottle. Today you will be punished for staining the carpet. You will follow me and not say a word."

Ellen turned her brown eyes to the withered ground. It was late summer, and the grass was all but burnt after months of relentless graylight. Even as autumn approached Gray was still strong in the sky, and Anira had insisted that Ellen drink a glass of water before they left for the park, so that she wouldn't get dehydrated. The exact purpose of the trip to the park was unclear -- Anira rarely took Ellen anywhere outside the house, preferring to travel alone and leave Ellen to complete her household chores in solitude.

Gray was harsh and bright even though the hour was early, and Ellen shaded her eyes from the morning light. There were few other cars in the car park, but it was early -- by midday it would likely be packed solid. Anira led Ellen away from the cars and under the flimsy wooden arch through the main entrance to the greens at the bottom of the park. Ellen squinted as she looked up at the bleached wood of the arch and the faded letters in cracked paint upon it -- "Welcome to Minerva Park", and underneath, in smaller letters, "The Finest Greens in the Blissian Northern Hemisphere." It had probably looked rustic and beautiful when it was last painted, but nobody in a position of authority cared to have such signs painted any more. In Minerva, nobody in a position of authority cared much for anything other than themselves, and so the park, and the signs within and without, were left to the elements.

Some of the populace of Minerva lounged idly on the dry grass and the cracked ground, reading or lying in the light of Gray, as Ellen followed Anira down the main pathway. A young man jogged the other way, his sweats damp from his exertion. He nodded politely at Anira, but turned away from Ellen. Many people did, when they saw the leash and the collar and her plain white slacks and blouse. She preferred that to the stares that she got from other people -- usually poorer people. A group of teenagers had been playing with a ball a stone's throw away, but they stopped and stared as she and Anira walked past. Even when they were gone Ellen could feel their gazes boring into the back of her head. She wondered what the girls were thinking -- if they pitied her, or were disgusted by her. She didn't need to wonder what the boys were thinking, but she felt the heat of their stares on her slender legs and her round buttocks, all but visible under her thin cotton clothes. She wished she was back in the safety and comfort of Anira's home, turning down the beds, washing the dishes, preparing the dinner, waiting for her mistress to return home in the hope that she might be in the mood for making love. As cruel as Lady Anira could be, she was a skilled and tender lover, when she was in the mood, and Ellen loved her for it.

Anira stopped at a small wooden kiosk selling refreshments and bought two small bottles of water. She handed one to Ellen. "Drink." She commanded, before twisting the top from the other and putting it to her lips.

Ellen obeyed, feeling a little thirsty in the morning heat. The open topped car always dried her mouth, especially since late summer in Minerva was a dry and dusty affair. She drank half the bottle, then replaced the lid.

"No, drink it all." Anira ordered.

"I'm not that thirsty, Mistress. I'll carry it." She replied, as they settled back into a slow walk towards the cover of the trees at the edge of the greens.

"I told you not to answer back. Now drink."

Ellen obediently drank the rest of the water and deposited the bottle in a waste bin as they passed. Anira had thrown hers onto the floor, but Ellen knew that she would be beaten if she did same. Even so, she felt quietly relaxed as they walked away from the greens and into a narrow track that led between tall, dry trees. There were less people, and the trees shaded her from Gray. It was nice to be out in the open for a change, it was nice to see a horizon instead of the inside of a room. It was nice, despite Anira's mood, to spend some time together. Ellen gingerly reached out and took her mistress's hand, wriggling her small fingers into Anira's palm, tangling with the end of the leash that she held.

"Oh, thank you, girl." Anira said, treating Ellen to a wide smile for the first time since she had broken the bottle. Ellen beamed back. "You're such a sweet girl." Anira said. Ellen said nothing, but could not help a huge smile from creasing her eyes. She blushed. "And so shy." Anira added. Ellen found herself hoping that Anira would bend down to plant a delicate kiss on her cheek, but she was disappointed. It had been some time since they had last kissed, and longer still since they had made love. There was a growing itch inside Ellen's irremovable white panties that only Anira was allowed to scratch.

Nothing more was said as they followed the pathway, which took them higher and higher above the city of Minerva. From time to time they came to clearings among the trees, and Ellen risked quick glances behind to see how high they had come. She could see the brown haze in the sky above the city, the dust and smoke that the population created, and was glad to be clear of it.

They had been walking for over an hour when they finally reached a stout wooden tower at the top of the hill. The path continued down the other side to join the rest of the hills, and then up into the Blue Mountains, but Anira veered towards the tower and sat down on a bench at its base. Ellen made to sit, but Anira stopped her.

"You stand, girl." She said. Oh yes, Ellen remembered -- slaves shouldn't use public facilities like park benches. She stood, shifting from one leg to the other as they became tired, while Anira seemed to take in the view. After a while she felt the faintest tickle in her bladder -- the large glass of water before leaving Anira's home and the bottle on the greens had made their way through her despite the heat, but it was nothing that she could not bear -- she could last a while. There were toilets on the green that they could use on their way back to the car.

A moment later a man carrying a small satchel emerged from another pathway and sat down next to Anira. He was silent for a while, gazing out across the city, before he finally spoke.

"If I look hard enough, I can see my house." He said.

"You must look very hard, to see through the haze." Anira replied.

"It's easy to see through the haze when you remember what the city looked like before it was there." Said the man.

Anira paused before she replied, pursed her lips, and sighed. "You're a little late."

"I know."

It seemed to Ellen that Anira was waiting for him to say more, but he remained silent as he gazed out across the city.

"I have the documents." Anira said bluntly. "Do you have what I asked for?"

"Yes." The man replied, reaching into his satchel to pull out a large bottle of water. Anira pulled an envelope from inside her top and handed it to the man, taking the bottle from him. "Good day." He said as he stood, and made off in the direction he had come from.

"Sit down, girl." Anira said softly once the man had disappeared into the trees. "Drink this."

Ellen obeyed, sitting on the bench and taking the bottle from her mistress. She wasn't really thirsty, but the water was cool against her hot hands. She held it to her belly for a moment, feeling the light tickle inside her: water without, water within.

"Drink it." Anira said again.

"I'm not thirsty, Mistress." Ellen said, setting the bottle down onto the bench.

"I'm not asking you, girl."

Ellen reluctantly picked up the bottle and unscrewed its top, placing it to her lips. It was a litre and a half, far too much to get through in one go, but she drank as much as she could, aware that Anira was not in the mood to be disobeyed.

"Come, girl." Anira said after Ellen had emptied almost half the bottle, standing and making for the path back down to the greens. Ellen made to replace the lid, but Anira stilled her with a flick of her hand. "Keep drinking. You're to finish that by the time we reach the bottom."

Ellen frowned, her belly already full with only half the bottle's contents. She took a few ginger sips as they paced slowly through the trees, the weight of her bladder beginning to press a little harder. She would have to use the facilities on the greens when they reached the bottom of the hill.

The journey down was easier than the journey up, but the descent left the backs of Ellen's legs burning with effort. Anira rarely took her on such walks, and she was not fit for it. With each step she felt the weight of the water in her belly bouncing, as if it too was moving downwards, until her bladder began to roll in time with her swaying hips, the tickles of fullness turning into a slight urge.

"You haven't finished the bottle, girl." Anira said, a tone of annoyance in her voice, as they left the trees and stepped onto the hard ground of the greens.

"I'm sorry, Mistress." Ellen sighed. "I need to use the toilet."

"Drink the water."

"Mistress, I need the toilet."

"Defy me at your peril, girl." Anira said firmly.

Ellen scowled at the floor, keeping half an eye on her mistress to make sure she didn't see, but took another long sip from the bottle. She stopped for breath, then took another, finishing at last its contents. Her stomach felt heavy and cold, and sloshed inside her.

"Good girl. Let's sit down for a while."

Lady Anira led her to a bare patch of Gray-dried grass in the shade of a tall tree and together they sat in silence, staring out at the city and the park. Anira seemed content to gaze at the view, so Ellen occupied herself by watching the park's other users, walking or jogging or playing. Some children chased a dog; an old woman leapt out of their way and chastised them in words that faded to indecipherable syllables over the distance. Some young men were playing with a football, and the dog invaded their game -- soon there was a pantomime of dog, football, men, children and irate old woman. Ellen watched it unfold, all the time becoming steadily more aware that the big bottle of water was filtering through her little body and filling her already tickling bladder.

An hour or so passed. The family with the dog left, the men with their punctured ball sat and stared at the view; a group of cyclists conquered the steep incline and disappeared into the path between the trees that Ellen and Anira had climbed earlier. The tickles between Ellen's legs became urges, which seemed to grow more and more urgent by the minute.

"Are you alright, girl? Your hand is sweaty." Anira asked softly.

"I need the toilet, Mistress." She replied.

"How badly?"

"I'm getting quite desperate, actually."

"You'll hold it until we get home."

Ellen stifled a whimper -- it was a half-hour drive back to Anira's place. She could make it, she thought, but the urgency in her belly didn't feel nice and she would be happier to relieve herself sooner. In the next few minutes would be preferable. But still, Lady Anira's word was always final -- she would just have to wait.

"Come girl." Anira said, standing and stretching. "I need to use the bathroom, and then we'll leave."

Anira paced off quickly across the greens towards the white wooden building that was the citizen's facility block. The wood was old, the paint faded and cracked, but the building was a palace compared to the tiny shack that stood several paces away from it, barely wide enough to accommodate a large man. Ellen's eyes fixed longingly upon it: beyond its flaked paint, its rotten wood and its unhinged door it offered sanctuary and relief. It was the slave's toilet.

Anira led Ellen into the ladies room and slipped into a cubicle, shutting the door but still holding Ellen's leash so that she could not escape -- not that she would, of course -- she had nowhere to go, and for all her cruelty, her feelings for Anira were stronger than anything else. She stood, listening to the rustling of fabric as Anira made herself comfortable, and glanced into a nearby cubicle. An automated latrine gleamed on the clinical white tiles: it was just like the one in Anira's home. Only a few paces away, Ellen thought -- she could turn around, slip down her trousers, sit on its soft seat and relieve her filling bladder. If only Anira did not hold her leash, and if only slaves were allowed to use the citizen's facilities. If only it were possible for her to remove her locked Flexilon panties.

The sound of trickling water echoed from the tiles, and Ellen clenched her legs together involuntarily as the urge in her belly increased. She wiggled her hips a little to relieve a sudden wave of desperation that rolled over her. It passed as quickly as it had come on, as the latrine flushed and Anira strolled out of the cubicle towards the sinks.

Ellen obediently soaped and cleaned Anira's hands, rinsed them, dried them, dried her own, all the while trying to ignore the tormenting sound of the water from the taps. The pressure in her bladder was growing stronger by the heartbeat as the litre and a half of water in her belly filtered through her little body and collected with that which she already carried. She found her hips wiggling instinctively.

"Stop dancing about, girl, this is a restroom, not a disco."

"I'm sorry, Mistress, I really have to go now. That water is coming through me quickly. Can I use a cubicle?" Ellen said, and with horrified embarrassment she detected the sound of pleading in her own voice.

"Of course not!" Anira snapped. "Slaves don't use public facilities!"

"The slave's cubicle, Mistress?"

"What do you say?"

Ellen winced, wriggled her hips frantically for a split second in annoyance as much as desperation, and said the words that Anira had taught her to say. "Please, Mistress, may I pee?"

Anira stood back, staring firmly into her eyes. "No." She said.

"Mistress, please! I really have to go!"

"Be quiet."

"Mistress..."

"Be quiet, girl! I won't tell you again." Anira turned and made for the door. "Don't make a scene."

Ellen felt an uninvited whimper collect in her throat, and she took off quickly after Anira, keeping her short legs pressed together. Her eyes were drawn to the decaying shack as she stepped into the graylight. A grimace was stuck about her face as she held on against the tickle in her belly. If only Anira would let her use the slave's toilet! What had she done to deserve this? She had stained Anira's beautiful white carpet, is what she had done. She realised in sudden horror that her punishment was no coincidence: Anira made sure that every punishment had some poetic relationship with the crime that it befitted. White carpet -- white trousers; yellow wine...

Ellen felt a tug on her collar and she stumbled, snapping her head away from the receding slave's toilet behind her in time to catch her balance. The jarring of her fall shook her bladder, and waves of warning sounded from her belly as she bent over, clamping her legs involuntarily.

"Whatever are you doing, girl?" Anira snapped, turning to look at her. Ellen opened her clenched eyes and looked into Anira's.

"I'm sorry, Mistress, I'm getting a bit desperate. Please?"

"Well, if you'd look where you were going..."

"Please, Mistress, can I go? I really need to!"

"No girl of mine is using that filthy thing." Anira said bluntly, turning and tugging on the leash.

"I really need to..." Ellen began, but Anira cut her off with a hiss.


Drink: a Circle of Denial Story Ch. 02



Author's Note:

This is a continuation of Drink: A Circle of Denial Story, which can be found on my memberpage. The Circle of Denial stories are based on my erotic thriller, Rhiana, which can also be found at my memberpage. If you wish to know more about the Circle of Denial, please refer to that story.

I'd like to thank those who added comments or sent feedback to my last Drink story. This story is for all those who long to read about a poor, defenceless slave forced to hold her full bladder at the whim of her vicious Mistress. This story also contains lesbian sex.

Although I have no specific plans for a third chapter, I may torment poor Ellen's bursting bladder with a further desperate adventure I get enough feedback.

* * *

The super-bright star at the centre of the remote Gray system shone down onto the northern hemisphere of Bliss, over the Blue Mountains, over the dry grasslands of Hestavia, over the great Lake Victoria and its smaller sisters, over the choking sprawl of the northern capital of Minerva, and over its wooded suburbs, where wooden bungalows baked in the heat of a Minervan summer Sunday.

Mid-morning graylight filtered in through the kitchen window of one little bungalow among a remote estate of many, and washed over the pale arms of a young slave as her hands worked beneath the suds, polishing grease from the crockery. Reddish-blonde hair hung down her back in curls and hung over her brow where it often got in her eyes. With a flick of her head she tossed it aside and continued to work, shoulders back and belly held away from the worktop to keep her thin white slacks and blouse dry. So sheer and light was the loose material on her back and legs that her undergarments were visible through it, slender panties and bra of a mottled beige smart-fabric called Flexilon.

The slave stood with her legs together, slightly crossed. She had been ignoring the tickle in her belly for a while -- in fact she had been enjoying the sensation somewhat, as it was the closest she came to any kind of pleasurable feeling in that part of her body. Lady Anira had failed to unlock her Flexilon panties in recent weeks, save for showers and shaving, and the flesh inside was beginning to feel somewhat more than neglected. The tickle of a near-full bladder could be quite enjoyable, until it became too much to bear.

The warm water around her hands and the sound of her splashes in the sink were beginning to make things feel more urgent than they really were. She shifted on her feet, lifted her knees once or twice, wiggled her hips so that her white slacks danced over her pert round buttocks.

The last few plates took no time to wash and dry and return to their place in the cupboard, and then she took only a few moments more to empty the bowl and wipe down the sink before she skipped out of the kitchen towards the bathroom. Her chores were mostly done, and it was a beautiful summer's day. There may even be time to relax. Sometimes Lady Anira took her for a walk on a Sunday afternoon, holding her hand as they strolled through the evergreen woods or long brown grasses that surrounded the city of Minerva. Sometimes they sat together in the garden, where Lady Anira played with her reddish-blonde hair, stroked her neck, and generally pampered her in a way that made her feel most loved and wanted. Sometimes they just curled up on the sofa and enjoyed each other's company.

The cool tiles of the bathroom floor radiated a gentle chill to the heat of the day and soothed Ellen's work-warmed feet as she stepped over the threshold. A shiver ran up her spine and she shifted her hips as a sudden wave of desperation -- brought on by the cold floor and the sight of the toilet only a few paces away -- threatened to overwhelm her control. The metal contacts on the side of the toilet, where she had to touch her wristbands to signal the opening of the slit in her locked panties, gleamed in the graylight 

A voice interrupted her as she began to pull at the buttons on her white slacks.

"Ellen, what are you doing?" Lady Anira called from her study, her voice as bright and sunny as the mid-morning sky.

"Just using the bathroom, Mistress." Ellen replied.

"Come to me a moment, my girl."

"May I please use the bathroom first, Mistress?"

"No, girl. To me."

Ellen obeyed, turning on her toes and stepping swiftly to the study. The moment two weeks ago was still fresh in her mind, when Lady Anira had taken her to the park and watched as her bladder filled to bursting, and then made her hold herself until she simply could not keep it in any longer. She had hated Lady Anira for that, just as she loved her; Lady Anira was her owner, her Mistress, and her devoted lover. Ellen had cried tears of humiliation when her tortured bladder had finally let go on the patio, and tears that soaked her nose and cheeks as she buried her face between Lady Anira's legs and brought her to orgasm. Her belly had ached a little the next day, and she had burned with shame when she saw the stains that she had left on the patio slabs. It had been horrible, and as Ellen entered the airy brightness of the study she could not help but feel a little trepidation, as if some warning signs were beginning to flash in the back of her head. She needed to pee, and Lady Anira had stopped her.

Lady Anira greeted her with a wide smile. "How are you doing with your chores, my sweet?"

"All done, Mistress." Ellen bobbed as she replied.

"The dishes?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"And the linen?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"And the dusting?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"You are a good girl, aren't you?"

Ellen smiled. "Only for you, Mistress." She said, then tried to wipe the grin from her face as she saw Lady Anira's soft cheeks turn pink and her mouth turn up at the corners.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, my girl." Anira smirked.

"No, Mistress."

"But please don't stop just because of that."

Ellen smiled once again, uncontrollably, infected by the smile on her owner's face. She loved her in a way she never thought possible; she was not voluntarily a slave, and would be free were it not for the slavebox on the base of her skull, the illegal computer chip that plugged into her neural implants and kept her wirelessly connected to the house computer wherever she went. Lady Anira had bought her from the underworld slave-house some five months ago for a little household help, and had immediately fitted her irremovable Flexilon bra and panties, along with her wrist and ankle-bands, as a mark of ownership. At first she had been terrified, and then horribly frustrated as the weeks passed and her untouchable flesh became ever more tender, until Lady Anira had come to her one hot and lonely midnight and released her from her frustration with her delicate mouth and tongue.

She could be a hard mistress, when she was of a mind, but she could also be deliciously tender and sweet as sugar, and it did not take long for Ellen to fall under her aloof and mysterious spell. She made love to Anira whenever she was allowed, and learnt how to take over her body and play her like a musical instrument, and on infrequent occasions she was rewarded with the same: her Flexilon garments would become loose, Anira's hands or tongue would cross their forbidden boundaries, and she would shake and shudder and writhe until she exploded at the gates of ecstasy.

"You are so very beautiful, girl." Lady Anira said at last, breaking the blushing silence, as she stood from her deep leather desk chair and stepped across the room to where Ellen stood. Her slender hands reached forth and slid under Ellen's chin, around her neck, cradled her head as if it were a glass ball only microns thick, and in a heartbeat their lips met.

Ellen stood motionless as she let Lady Anira kiss her in a way she had not been kissed for a long time. They kissed regularly, usually daily, but not always like this: not always was Anira's tongue so exploratory or animated as it played around Ellen's teeth; not always did Anira's lips seek to devour Ellen's so deeply or so tenderly. Ellen would have returned the kiss with all the vigour she received, were she not to stunned by its suddenness and its tenderness that she was rooted to the spot.

Eventually Lady Anira broke away, pushing Ellen's head gently backwards. She blinked and opened her eyes, let out a sigh, stared into Lady Anira's deep blue eyes as they swum in their pale sea, equidistant between the shores of her straight dark hair.

"You liked that, didn't you, girl?" Anira said with a smile that turned her pale cheeks red once again.

"Yes, Mistress."

Anira grinned, stepped around her, took her into an embrace from behind. Ellen swam in heart-racing euphoria as she felt Lady Anira's thighs touch her buttocks, her belly and breasts touch her back, her nose nuzzle through her long hair to clear a path for her lips to touch the back of her neck. She loved to be spooned by Anira; she felt so wanted and protected when she was encased in her body, penned in by delicately exploring fingers and lithe, slender arms.

Anira's hands rode up Ellen's blouse, unfastened the buttons one by one, pulled it from her shoulders where it fell softly to the floor, exposing the black-and-beige weave of the smart-fabric that encapsulated her breasts. She felt Anira's lips move at her neck as she whispered something silently, and with a ping the smart-fabric became loose and sagged around her ribs. A quick flick from Anira's hands sent it skimming to the floor where it landed beside her blouse.

Ellen glanced down at the pale orbs standing proud on her chest. She saw them every night, when Lady Anira showered her, but for some time they had been caressed by nothing more than warm soapy water and a soft towel. Her neglected nipples stood erect and ached to be touched, an ache that Lady Anira must have sensed for she homed in on them, cupped Ellen's breasts in her hands, massaged and stroked and gently squeezed towards her nipples as if trying to milk them.

"Is that nice, girl?" Anira whispered into her ear.

"Yes, Mistress." Ellen purred in response, arching her back to rub her buttocks into Anira's thighs.

"Good girl. You're very responsive today."

"You haven't touched me for a long time, Mistress."

Anira sighed. "Do you know how long for?"

"Seven weeks."

"Seven weeks, two days, three hours and forty-three minutes." Anira slurred. "That's how long it's been since I last played with you, isn't it? I've been a bad mistress, neglecting my sweet girl for so long. You must have been needing me so badly."

"Every night, Mistress. Every night and every day I've needed you."

"Well now you have me." Anira whispered. She gave another silent movement of her lips, and Ellen's panties became slack at her waist. An exploratory hand began to trace down her belly, long fingernails caressing the little bulge between her hips, unfastening the buttons on her slacks and slipping under the slack waistband of her panties.

"Please, Mistress..." Ellen whispered, choking on her own words in the heat of the moment and the embarrassment of the question she had to ask. "May I please use the bathroom first?"

"What's that, girl?" Lady Anira whispered, delivering delicate kisses to her ear.

"Please Mistress, may I pee?"

"No, girl." She hissed almost silently. "I don't want to let you go."

"I don't want you to let me go either Mistress, but I think I should go before..."

"I said no, girl." Anira whispered, a little louder. "What do you say?"

"Yes, Mistress." Ellen squeaked. The exploring nails of both Anira's hands had passed the little patch of stubble where she had been shaved, tickled over her pubis, and were playing at her moist lips. She had been wet within the first few seconds of Anira's delicious kiss, but the fingers at her neglected flesh were drawing yet more heat from inside her. The tickling nails were only millimetres from her hood, where they could no doubt give her what she craved, and so did she crave it, but she also knew that tickles there would conflict with the tickles in her bladder, and too much stimulation might be enough to make her lose control. Oh, why oh why did Lady Anira have to pick this very unexpected moment for an amorous encounter? She could break free and run to the bathroom to empty her near-full bladder, but Lady Anira would be angry and upset. Her moods might have shifted by the time she returned. Ellen's Flexilon panties would probably go straight back on, and her aching body would go without what it needed once more.

Anira's fingertips stroked back and forth over Ellen's stubble, pulling it this way and that, indirectly stimulating her covered clit and sending little warning messages up to her brain that her closed sphincter was being stretched to the point that it might leak.

"I think you need to be shaved, girl." Anira said softly after another kiss to her earlobe. "What do you think? Do you want to be shaved?"

"Yes, Mistress." She replied almost immediately. They would have to go to the bathroom for her to be lathered and shaved -- there she could probably use the toilet while Anira got the razor washed and ready.

"Come with me." Anira said brightly, taking her hand and leading her from the study. Her slacks and panties slid down her thighs and she grabbed them with her spare hand, slipped out of them, let them fall to the carpet as she ran naked through the warm air of the house.

"Sit there." Anira said, pointing to the closed lid of the toilet. Ellen stepped across the tiles, pulled the lid open as Anira turned to fetch the razor and foam from the cabinet. "What are you doing, girl? Lid down."

"Mistress, can't I just..."

"No, girl. Sit on the lid."

"Yes, Mistress." Ellen said with a long sigh, closing the lid once more and sitting herself onto its cold surface. Her skin recoiled and her buttocks tightened; she closed her legs against the cold and against the tickle inside her. She could hold on a little longer if she had to, but it would be so much more enjoyable if she could completely lose herself to the moment of being touched and pampered by Lady Anira, and not have to endure the feeling of a full bladder. She longed for her lips to meet with Anira's once more, longed to have Anira's hands between her legs again; she loved the intimacy and the delicacy of being shaved, but she wanted to feel it without the urge at the back of her mind.

"Wait there a moment, girl." Lady Anira said, leaving the razor in the sink under the running tap. She left the room, and Ellen wriggled unwittingly on the cold toilet seat as the sound of running water echoed inside her head. Anira returned a moment later with a large glass of juice, which she handed to Ellen.

"Here, drink this while I shave you, there's a good girl."

Ellen glanced at the cold liquid, then back at Anira once more, looked into her playful blue eyes, saw in them the characteristic hardness that was often present. She could not argue -- she had been given an order.

She took a few sips as Anira spread lather between her legs with a brush. It was fresh apple juice and tasted delicious, a divine accompaniment to the soft bristles of the brush between her legs. The razor came next, its head cold and wet, forcing Ellen to yelp and sit forwards suddenly.

"Sit back, girl, and keep your legs open. You don't want me to nick you, do you?"

"No, Mistress."

"I wouldn't want to cut my beautiful girl. Drink up, you'll get dehydrated in all this heat."

"Yes, Mistress."

Anira made swift work of cutting the fine stubble from Ellen's puffy pubis while Ellen took ginger sips from the cold glass. She had almost drained its contents when Anira sat back and fetched a warm flannel to wipe away the remains of the lather.

"There, nice and smooth." Anira sighed. She looked up at Ellen with a wry smirk, and winked. "I think you're horny."

"Yes, Mistress."

With her slender fingers she gently pulled Ellen's lips apart, revealing the collected heat that glistened within them and her semi-engorged clitoris, reddening further under Anira's gaze.

"Mistress, please don't pull me there..." Ellen heard herself say as warning messages hammered in her brain.

"You don't like me touching you, girl?"

"Of course I do, but I need to go, and you're going to make me... No, Mistress!" Ellen shot forward quickly and slammed her legs shut as Anira gave a playful tug under her clit, but it was too late -- a little trickle ran down her lips and onto the toilet seat, where it pooled under her thighs. She turned her eyes to the floor, lowered her head, felt her cheeks and chest flush bright red.

"Oops!" Anira said with a bright smile. "My poor girl! Never mind, open up, let me wipe that away."

Ellen reluctantly obeyed, pulled her legs gently apart and lifted her buttocks from the seat so that Anira could wipe the warm flannel over her dampened flesh, returned her body to the wet seat as she withdrew it and tossed it into the washing basket. She closed her legs again and sat forwards against the growing urge in her bladder, but Anira stopped her with a soft finger to her chest.

"No, girl, sit back and open up, let Mistress play with you."

"Yes, Mistress." Ellen sighed, as she sat back against the cistern and let her legs open once more. Her bladder throbbed a little in this position and the muscles between her legs complained at being asked to hold back the pressure, but she could not deny herself more of Anira's much-needed attention. She would hold on as long as she could before she asked again; Anira would have to let her go before they retired to the bedroom or the garden or the lounge, or wherever they would ultimately go to make love.

Anira's fingers found Ellen's clit, hidden once more under its hood, and began to push it around in small circles. Her other hand rode upwards, onto Ellen's tickling belly, and there they began to circle around slowly, long nails tickling her further. Ellen sighed a sigh that was both deep and tight, both pleasured and tortured. Was Anira doing this on purpose?

She felt her pulse rise, felt the breath in her chest turn hot and sticky. Her eyes sunk as her chest rose; a prickly flush danced across her pale skin. Anira's fingers were working a subtle magic on her that never failed to hit the mark, even from her awkward and undignified angle kneeling in front of the toilet. It was not like Lady Anira to maintain an undignified pose, and it surely would not be long before she broke off her stroking and moved Ellen to the bedroom to continue. Surely she'd be allowed to empty her bladder before she left the bathroom?

"Come, girl." Anira said, as if reading Ellen's mind; she withdrew, leaving Ellen suddenly breathless for lack of pressure on her hooded clit. She delicately grasped Ellen's hands and pulled her to her feet with a tender strength that bellied her slender arms. "We'll continue in the bedroom."

For a moment Ellen resisted her pulls. "Mistress, can't I please go, quickly, before..."

"I said we'll continue in the bedroom."

"But Mistress..." Ellen said, and was disappointed to hear an edge of whining in her voice that she had hoped to avoid. Involuntarily her knees bent and she felt herself digging her bare heels into the tiles like a stubborn child.

Anira narrowed her eyes and gave a silky smile, beautiful and seductive, yet supremely confident; Ellen felt herself melting to it and unable to disobey it. Anira was stronger than her, and they both knew it. "I wish to make love to you, girl, and I am an impatient lover. You will come with me."

The pressure in her bladder, however, increasing all the while since she had drunk the glass of juice, was not to be ignored so easily. "Mistress, please, I really have to go now, I've been waiting since I started the dishes and that was well over an hour ago, and I drank all that juice, and..."




Drink: a Circle of Denial Story Ch. 02



"Did you enjoy that juice, girl?" Anira cut her off with her silky voice.

"Yes, Mistress." Ellen obediently replied.

"Then you shall have another glass. To the kitchen. Now."

Ellen let her hands drop to her sides as Anira let go, let her shoulders drop in frustration. "Yes, Mistress." She mumbled.

Things were beginning to look the same as they had before, that day in the park, where she had been given bottle after bottle to drink, until she had started to dribble into her panties out of sheer desperation. She wasn't at that stage just yet, but another glass of juice might be enough to get her there, and she had so badly wanted to enjoy being pleasured by Lady Anira.

In the kitchen Anira poured another large glass of apple juice and handed it to Ellen. "Drink, girl. All of it."

Ellen did not try to argue. The juice was sweet and cold against her lips and chilled her throat on the way down. It took three long sips, with rapid breaths in between, to get the whole glass down, where it sat in her belly like a cold weight.

"You're a good girl." Anira said.

Words fought for freedom in Ellen's head. "Mistress, you I'll pee myself if you don't let me go soon." She heard herself say, and felt her cheeks burn as she spoke. "It'll just start coming out like last time."

Anira stepped forwards and put a delicate hand against Ellen's lower belly, where a bulge was growing. "I want to play a game, girl." She slurred, her very words making the tiny hairs on the back of Ellen's neck stand on end in lust and fear. "I'm going to try to make you come. If you start to leak, I'll stop what I'm doing. I'll not continue until you stop leaking. If you don't stop the leak within five seconds, the game is over. If you flood, the game is over. If you stop leaking, I'll continue. If you come without leaking, then you may use the toilet, and you'll have another orgasm as your reward. If you lose the game, then you will be sent straight to your room, the doors will be locked, and you will learn to control yourself until morning. Your panties will go back on and you will not come for another two weeks, at least. Do you understand?"

Ellen clenched shut her legs and bobbed slightly, the mere thought of the game enough to make her bladder attempt to surge. "Mistress..." She whined.

"Come, girl, it'll be fun, won't it? I haven't made you come in a while, have I?"

"Mistress, please, can't you just let me go and then make me come?"

"This is a game, my girl, and we're going to play it." Anira said shortly, her eyes narrowing. "Now stop whining and come to the bedroom."

Ellen followed, her sweaty palm grasping Anira's slender hand. She felt like crying, but felt that all the water in her body had rushed to her bladder all of a sudden. She had been so excited and so happy that she was going to make love to Anira, and now her lady had spoiled it by playing some impossible game. There was no way she could hold on when she got close to orgasm. It was getting worse by the second, and it would surely come spurting out if she lost concentration for just the slightest moment. And another two weeks inside her panties -- surely not? Anira had already excited her and got her blood pumping, how could she possibly stand another two weeks without orgasm? She loved Anira, couldn't she see that? Couldn't she see that she longed for Anira to make her come, in the special way that only Anira could?

But there was no arguing with her lady. Anira was a hard mistress and she could be cruel when she wasn't being deliciously tender. If she wanted to do something, then it was done. She got what she wanted every time.

Anira steered Ellen into her little bedroom, where she rarely slept -- she spent most nights curled up in Anira's large bed, unless she was being punished for something. "We'll use your bed, because I don't want my silk sheets getting wet. I expect we'll have a few little leaks, won't we, girl?"

"I hope not, Mistress." Ellen mumbled, keeping her eyes down.

"Good girl." Anira sat herself onto Ellen's bed, lifted one leg onto the mattress and drew her knee to her shoulder, her other foot planted on the floor. "Come, turn around and sit into me." She said softly, and Ellen obeyed, turning around to sit side-saddle on the bed. "Such a cute little bottom you've got, girl..." Anira muttered, cradling Ellen's body in her arms and kissing her neck tenderly. "I could bite that bottom all night long." She tapped Ellen's leg with her hand. "Lift this leg up, put it on the bed."

"Mistress, I'm keeping my legs closed so I don't... Go."

"How am I supposed to play with you if you keep your legs closed? Come on, leg on the bed, there's a good girl."

Ellen obeyed, lifting her leg gingerly so as to maintain control. With one leg raised and spread she had to use only her sphincter to keep her bladder from emptying, and it was a continuous strain. Her belly was far more than tickling now; it was a strong, fizzing urge, a hard reservoir under growing pressure from within, stretching to its limits, whereupon it would surely start to leak.

Anira got to work quickly, cupping Ellen's breast with one hand while the other sought out the moist heat between her legs and began to stroke her fleshy folds. It was rather direct and unsubtle, but it was enough to get her juices flowing and her heart racing once more: despite the buzzing in her belly she felt the blood rushing between her legs, making her clit throb and begin to poke out from under its hood.

"You get going so quickly, don't you, girl?"

"Yes, Mistress." Ellen sighed breathily. Her chest had tightened again and her breaths rasped loudly and slowly in her throat. She let her eyes droop closed and let her hands fall behind her, where they gently stroked Anira's thighs through her dark cotton trousers.

"I bet you've wondered how long it would be until your next orgasm, haven't you?" She said, as she slid her fingers either side of Ellen's proud clit and began to pull it up and down, massaging its throbbing hooded shaft.

"Yes, Mistress." Ellen breathed again, but wasn't sure if Anira expected a reply. She felt two soft lips close around her earlobe, felt teeth give her a playful nip, felt her heart sing in time. It was so good to be this close to Anira; she wanted nothing other than to be between her arms, cradled by her, protected by her, loved by her, pampered by her.

"All the time, wondering if it could be next week, or tomorrow, or even today." Anira whispered into her ear, gave her another nip. "It could be in an hour." Nip. "It could be in ten minutes." Nip. "It could be..." Nip. "Right now."

Ellen let out a deep moan. "Yes, Mistress." She murmured.

"Yes?"

"Yes..."

"Yes?"

"I think I'm going to..." She began as she felt the building waves of a long-needed orgasm about to break inside of her, then sat forwards suddenly as a surge from her bladder reached her sphincter and jetted from her body, over Anira's fingers, onto the bedclothes and onto the floor. She gave a squeak as she slammed her legs together and stemmed the flow.

"Have you stopped?" Anira asked firmly, grasping her with a rigid arm across her chest and holding her tight.

"Yes, Mistress." Ellen whimpered, her eyes almost shut against a tide of tears that threatened to flow. That had felt so good, and it had been ruined! She'd peed on Lady Anira's hand!

"Good girl. Now open your legs, and we'll try again."

"I don't think I can, Mistress."

"Of course you can, girl. Open."

Ellen obeyed wordlessly, clenching her muscles extra tight as she did so, put her foot back on the edge of the bed to allow Anira's probing fingers the best access. The hot liquid that had spurted from her urethra turned quickly cold on her legs and tickled annoyingly as Anira resumed her rhythmic stroking, a finger on either side of her clit, in just the rhythm that was guaranteed to make Ellen erupt into ecstasy.

"Mistress..." She murmured through her rising heat as Anira's fingers kept up their pace. The indirect attention was enough to take her steadily through the stages of arousal ultimately to climax, but it also tugged on her sphincter and made her involuntarily try to close her legs with each stroke.

"Yes, girl?"

"Mistress, I really don't think I can hold on if you do that. It's too much."

Anira sighed into her ear. "There, sweet girl, just keep holding, you'll come soon, won't you? You'll come for Mistress, won't you?"

"Yes, Mistress. Please, Mistress, it feels so good, but it would be so much better if I could just..."

"Hush, don't spoil the moment." Anira soothed. "Just concentrate on the sensations and keep holding, and any minute it'll be over. I'll give you a very special orgasm later, if you can hold for the first, I promise. I'll do anything you want me to."

"Mistress, I just want you to let me go..."

"No, girl. Now what would you have me do to you once you've won the game?"

"Umm..." Ellen began, stopped while she squirmed her hips momentarily against a sudden surge, then put her mind to the question. It was good to have something to think about other than the aching bulge in her belly. "I'll have you hold me like this, Mistress."

"Like this?"

"Just like this. I love it when you hold me like this."

"And I love holding you like this, precious girl."

Ellen tried to stop a wide smile from creeping across her face. No matter what the torture, she could not help but fall victim to such sweet words from her lover's mouth.

"Then what, girl?"

"I'd have you stroke my clit, Mistress, just like you're doing now."

"Like this?"

"Yes. Only a bit firmer."

"Like this?"

Ellen tried to respond with an affirmative, but she gave only a long moan. What Anira was doing was delicious -- it was ecstasy beyond the pain in her belly, it swamped and doused the burning need for relief. All she could feel was the racing of her heart, the softness of Anira's skin on hers, and lightning bolts from the skilled fingers between her legs. Nothing could possibly stop the climax of her approaching orgasm now, nothing could derail the train that sped towards her hips loaded with ecstatic release and primed to blow on impact. Nothing could...

"Stop it, girl!" Anira hissed into Ellen's ear. Her stroking had stopped all of a sudden, leaving only emptiness where her impending orgasm had once been. Ellen blinked open her eyes, cleared the pink clouds from her vision as her senses returned from their pre-orgasmic daze.

"Ah!" She squealed suddenly as she shot forwards, thrusting her hands between her legs and slamming them closed to stem the leak that she had unwittingly sprung. So lost in her own orgasmic build had she been that she had not even noticed the relaxing of her muscles and the warm trickle that must have taken Anira by surprise. "Mistress, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Mistress, I didn't know..." She sobbed as she turned her head down to her chest, trying not to look at her lust-reddened skin and her erect, yearning nipples and her bulging, aching belly.

"That was a full three seconds, girl. It was almost game over." Anira said coldly.

"Mistress, please, I don't want to play this game, I just want to make love to you, please? Please don't make me play this game! Please!"

"You sound so precious when you beg!" Anira whispered, her wistful voice distant like lost dreams. "But this is a fun game, isn't it? I like playing this game, and you haven't even given yourself a chance to get good at it yet!"

"I don't want to get good at it, Mistress, please! I just want to go! I've been waiting all morning and I've missed this so much but please, I just want to go before you play with me some more. I want to go before it comes out all over the bed!"

"Oh, my poor girl..." Anira sighed, cradling Ellen in her arms and rocking her back and forth. Ellen felt her cheek at her shoulder, her dark hair tickling her back, while she kept her own hands buried between her legs in case any more leaks should spring. "My poor, poor girl. You really can't hold on much longer?"

"No, Mistress." Ellen sobbed. "I really can't."

"Then the game will be over soon, won't it? Come on, take those hands away, you remember what I told you about touching yourself there, don't you?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"What did I say?"

"You said it's naughty, Mistress. You said only Mistress is allowed to touch me there, Mistress."

"And you know why I made you wear those panties, don't you, Ellen?"

Ellen gave a heated sigh that choked in her throat with shame. "Yes, Mistress."

"Why did I make you wear those panties?"

"Because I couldn't stop being naughty, Mistress. Because you told me not to do those things and I couldn't help myself, Mistress, because I am a naughty girl."

"That's right. But you're learning not to be a naughty girl, aren't you? You're Lady Anira's special little good girl, aren't you?"

"M'not a little girl, Mistress."

Anira giggled. "Of course you're not. You're a beautiful young lady with beautiful young hair and beautiful young breasts and a beautiful young bottom and a beautiful young face that melts my heart every time I see it."

"Mistress..."

"And you're learning to be a good young lady, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"So be a good girl and take those hands away before I have to put your panties back on. You don't want to be sent to bed with those on, do you?"

"No, Mistress."

"Good girl. Take those hands away."

"Yes, Mistress." Ellen sighed. She pulled her hands free slowly, kept her legs pressed together.

"And those legs. Come on, open. Slowly, you can do it. There you go -- oops!"

Ellen gave another tight squeak as her legs slammed closed again. "No, Mistress, I can't hold it like that. Please, just let me go?"

"Alright..." Anira sighed. Ellen's heart jumped at the words and she made to stand quickly, but Anira's hands were still tight around her waist. "No, girl, you can't go. We'll try something different."

"Mistress, don't go..." Ellen began, but Anira was already on her feet and making rapid paces towards the door. She stopped at its frame and turned, fixed Ellen with a steely smirk.

"Keep those hands where they belong, sweet girl." She said, before disappearing into the house.

Ellen rocked herself back and forth while she waited, trying to ease the fizzing urge in her bladder. The last glass of juice had been large, and it felt like it had all gone right through her. She wished she could force herself to sweat, wondered if it was possible for her body to take fluid back from her bulging bladder and excrete it through her skin. Anything to alleviate the near-unbearable pressure. She really was sure that she couldn't hold on much longer. She wasn't even sure if she could make it to the bathroom -- just the act of standing up might be too much.

Where had Lady Anira got to, and what was she doing?

Eventually the sound of soft footsteps returned, and Lady Anira's body appeared at the doorway. She had changed from her tight dark trousers and cotton t-shirt into a beautiful bustier and thong in finest dark blue velvet. It matched her slender curves perfectly, drew lines around her perky breasts and accentuated the roundness of her hips. Her pale belly, framed above and below by blue velvet and black lace, was a bright contrast to the dark but deep material that covered her chest and her sex. She carried something small which she kept concealed in one hand, and in the other a glass of cold water, condensation frosting at its side, which Ellen stared at with trepidation as she placed it on the bedside cabinet.

"Are those tears in your eyes, girl?" Anira cooed as she sunk to her knees by the bed.

Ellen nodded, not willing to open her mouth in case a girlish squeak came out and embarrassed her.

"What's wrong, my sweet?"

"I need to go, Mistress. I mean, I really, really need to go."

"Well... Let's make this quick, and then you can go. Yes?"

Ellen nodded again.

"Good girl. Now lie back, and draw your knees up, I've got something that I know you like."

Ellen obeyed, pushed herself up onto the bed and lay back onto the soft blanket. She peered down her chest, over her perky nipples and her raised and clenched knees as Anira lifted something pink and round to her mouth and began to suck it. Almost immediately she felt her throat tighten -- it was her own personal vibrating egg.

Anira cradled it delicately with her tongue, smearing saliva across its tip. "Now, just relax your legs for a moment girl, let me get this inside you."

Ellen tried to obey, but felt unable to bring her legs apart. Anira stroked her wet lips gently and prised them apart just enough to slip the tip of the egg inside, where it began to hum deliciously. Ellen moaned in pleasure and desperation as her urethra screamed warning messages about the vibrations being transmitted through it. Anira continued to push it gently, edging its base around in little circles to coat it with her heat, until it finally pushed past her lips and was drawn fully inside her.

A long moan left Ellen's mouth. The egg was only humming at the lowest of bass hums, but the feeling of having something hard inside her after so long was just heavenly. She began to forget the aching of her bladder and lowered her legs, kept them tightly together until they were stretched out flat on the bed, and she was straight as a board, save for the small round orbs of her breasts and the bulging bubble over her belly where her stretched bladder was held captive and straining at her skin for release.

The hum, almost inaudible inside Ellen's moist folds, began to rise in pitch, drawing a rising mew from her mouth. The egg had slid inside so that it nestled against her g-spot, and with her legs pressed together the buzzing device was pressed into her soft flesh. She hadn't come in so long, she was so sensitive inside, she had been aroused daily and nightly by her tender kisses with Anira so much that she seethed for release, and at last it was on its way, the stages of arousal passing like signs passing the window of a speeding train. Already she was there, so close, feeling her throat begin to tighten along with every muscle in her belly.

A burning tickle in her crotch followed by a warm flowing sensation was enough to pull her out of her approaching orgasm. The buzzing stopped immediately. Quickly Ellen sat up on her elbows, stretched her legs out before her and crossed them over one another, tried to stem the flow.

"Three... Four..." Anira whispered, just loud enough for Ellen to hear.

"It's stopped, Mistress, it's stopped." She whined tightly, screwing her eyes shut in determination.

"That was a lot, girl." Anira said firmly. "Another half-second and you would have lost the game. I thought you were getting better at this."

"I'm trying, Mistress, I'm really trying, but I have to go so badly... I just can't help it, I have to go! Please let me..."

"No, girl!" Anira soothed. "If you go before the game is over then your pants will go back on, and you'll be locked in this room until morning. Without a bathroom break."

"Mistress, no!"

"Then be quiet. Lie down, there's a good girl. I think you let quite a lot out that time. Look, it's glistening all over your legs."

Ellen lifted her head again, peered down her body at the droplets that had landed on her thighs and pooled between them where they were so firmly pressed together. She wanted to look away, but her horrified eyes were glued to the glistening pool.

"I think it's cheating for you to keep letting dribbles out all the time, it'll just get easier for you. I'm changing the rules. Every time you leak you'll drink two fingers of water from this glass."

"No, Mistress, please!"

"Quiet, girl. Drink."

Ellen looked into Anira's beautiful, hard eyes, saw nothing but concrete and steel staring back at her. She blinked, tried to hide her growing tears, but sat forwards carefully and took the cold glass, sucked in a mouthful and forced it down her throat. 




Drink: a Circle of Denial Story Ch. 02



"A little more, girl, that's not two fingers. There you go, get it down. Good girl."

She returned the glass to the cabinet and lay back on the bed, blinking the tears from her eyes to stare at the ceiling. Again the humming resumed inside her, tickling her g-spot, arousing her juices once more. Suddenly its frequency launched upwards, making her yelp and causing every muscle between her legs to spasm harshly. Her eyes glanced downwards in time to see a glistening jet of liquid spurt from between her legs and splash around her knees.

"That was another leak, wasn't it, girl?" Anira said softly.

"Mistress, that wasn't fair!" She mewed.

"I was just trying to make you come quicker, poor girl, before that extra water reached your bladder."

"I can't take it like that, Mistress! You have to start off slow and build up, otherwise I'll just lose control."

"I wanted to make it quicker for you, girl. The quicker you come, the quicker you go."

Ellen blinked back more tears.

"Now come on, you know the rules, two more fingers."

"Mistress, please..."

"Two more fingers, girl. Now."

Ellen sat up again, grabbed the glass with impatient fingers, sucked in a large mouthful and forced it down.

"Good girl. Now lie down, let Lady Anira finish you off before it's too late."

"Yes, Mistress." Ellen whispered, although she felt it was already too late. The burning behind her urethra was too intense, the pain in her bladder too much. It did not stop even as the humming began to rise, higher and higher, driving her yearning g-spot into a frenzy.

She had been teased for too long, her body needed to orgasm as much as it needed to empty its bladder. Her mind was just a passenger, along for the ride, torn between the two opposing needs but unable to control either. She felt her barriers giving way, felt her sex prepare to orgasm as her bladder prepared to let go. Her muscles were stiffening, her chest was tightening, her lungs were burning...

With a sudden contraction between her legs she sat forwards, gave a long grunt, an explosion of rapture igniting between her legs, in her chest and rolling up to her head like a tsunami. Her eyes slammed shut as her face twisted into something between agony and ecstasy, but not so fast that she missed a jet of liquid spurting from between her legs and splashing around her thighs. She doubled up, crossed her legs, pressed her hands into her pubis as warm fluid splashed through her fingers with each orgasmic contraction. The bed shifted, soft hands clasped gently at her shoulders, cradling her, holding her steady as she fell quickly into a second orgasm, almost as powerful as the first, so fast that she had not had time to recover her breaths or her bladder control.

Gradually it subsided, the hum of the egg reducing before she could be lost to a third detonation of delight, and her stiff legs wriggled as she picked herself blindly up onto her knees and clenched her hands against her urethra.

"Good girl, good girl, sweet girl..." Anira whispered into her ear as she cradled her, began to rock her steadily back and forth. "You've stopped the leak?"

"Yes, Mistress." She squeaked and nodded, her throat too tight with determination for any other sound.

"Good girl."

"You still need to go?"

"Yes, Mistress, please! Please let me go now, please, please!"

The bed shifted as Anira stood, stepped around the bed and sat before her. Ellen opened her eyes, gazed into Anira's beautiful face as it approached, opened her mouth, let Anira kiss her. The kiss went on and on as Ellen fought to keep her hands clasped between her legs, but it was no use, her body had had enough and her sphincter finally gave way to the pressure behind it. She whimpered as still she kissed Anira, and then began to cry.

"Are you going, sweet girl." Anira cooed, withdrawing from the kiss as the sound of hissing between her legs overtook the sound of her sobs.

Ellen couldn't speak. She pressed her chin into her chest, clenched her eyes against her tears and tried to will the world to swallow her out of Anira's gaze as her bladder emptied itself through her tightly-pressing hands.

Warm fluid poured through her fingers, splashed around her hips and thighs, ran down her buttocks and legs and onto the bed. It splashed over her calves and feet, soaked into the blanket, pooled between her toes, rolled onto the floor, and still it kept pouring from between her legs as tears poured from her eyes.

"I've got such a good girl." Anira whispered in her ear. "She'll do anything for me, my girl, and how I love her so for it. How I love her so."

Eventually the flood slowed to a trickle, and finally stopped. Ellen let out a long breath, felt the warm post-orgasmic buzz combined with the exhausted elation of having relieved herself at long last, the blissful pain of a stretched bladder finally emptied. She kept her wet hands where they were, daring not to touch Anira with them.

"You made a bit of a mess, didn't you? But never mind. You were a good girl for Ani, weren't you?"

"'S, Mistress." Ellen mumbled.

"You're my special girl, aren't you, Ellen?"

"'S, Mistress."

"Kiss me, girl. Kiss me on the lips, and then I'll take you to the shower and get you cleaned up, and then we'll go back to my room where it's clean and dry, and we can make love until the sun sets. But first, sweet girl, kiss me, just kiss me, because I love you so."

"I love you too, Mistress." Ellen sighed.

"No you don't, girl." Anira whispered in return. "No you don't. I'm your Mistress, you are my slave. You can never love me in the same way that I love you, but I love you all the same, and I'll love you forever, no matter what. Now kiss me."



Drink: a Circle of Denial Story



"That sweet little body you walk around in is not yours, girl, it is mine. I own it, and I decide when it needs to go. Right now, it does not need to go, it will not go, it will walk with me in the park and it will be grateful and it will not talk to me again about the toilet issue. It will go when it gets home."

Ellen whimpered to herself again as she jogged to catch up with Anira. Her clammy fingers grabbed hold of the bottom of her blouse and clenched, bunching the material. She walked on, but with each step she lifted her heels almost to her buttocks and wiggled her hips from side to side.

"Walk normally, girl."

"I can't, Mistress, I'll go!" Ellen pleaded.

"Everyone will look at you if you walk like that."

Ellen looked around. They were approaching the busier area of the greens, near the car park. Singles and couples and groups went about their business. Some of them looked at her, most didn't. Perhaps those who saw could tell what she was experiencing, perhaps they couldn't; Ellen didn't really care, beyond a little bit of embarrassment. As long as she could hold on, and not wet herself in front of so many people. It would be as obvious as rain in the Blissian summer if she was to wet her white trousers -- the thin cotton would soak through quickly, and would become almost transparent, showing her pale round buttocks framed in their slinky Flexilon panties.

Anira's pace slowed, and they stopped by the kiosk. Anira said something quickly, flashed her card to the vendor, and took a small bottle of water. She handed it to Ellen, who took it with horror in cold sweaty hands, then walked quickly away until the leash became tight again.

"No, Mistress, please!" She mewed as she took short delicate steps behind Anira, back to the quieter areas of the greens.

"Shut up and drink."

"Mistress, no, please, I'm really... I have to... Please!"

"Drink it! All of it! Now!"

Ellen gave another involuntary whimper and unscrewed the bottle top, placing it to her lips and taking a few sips. Her bladder ached and bulged in her belly, and she rubbed it with her empty hand, grimacing at how hard it felt.

They walked for several minutes before Ellen managed to empty the whole bottle into her belly with continuous tiny sips. She knew that it wouldn't be long before the extra pressure was felt, and that it might be too much for her little bladder to contain.

Anira stopped and sat on a park bench in the shade of an overhanging tree. Ellen stooped to sit next to her, but Anira stopped her with a raised hand and a warning glare.

Ellen straightened and tried to stand still, but her hips danced from side to side of their own accord as her knees twitched and her left heel rose again and again to her buttocks.

"Will you stand still, girl!" Anira said impatiently after several long agonising minutes.

"Please, Mistress!" Ellen said, with deliberate pleading. "It's really starting to hurt!"

"Be quiet."

"Mistress, please may I pee?"

"No."

"Mistress, please may I pee?"

"No."

"Mistress, please..."

"Do you want another bottle of water, Ellen?" Anira interjected with a blank face and an inquisitive stare.

"No!" Ellen yelped.

"Then be quiet."

Ellen pursed her lips, but couldn't help another long whimper of distress sound from her tight throat. She felt a warm burn deep in her belly begin to move slowly down towards the quivering sting between her legs where she clenched her muscles against the pressure. She bent forwards and redoubled her efforts, stopping the movement for just a second, before it started again. A tiny warm droplet appeared between her nether lips and soaked almost immediately into her panties. She whimpered again.

Panic stilled Ellen's voice as she contemplated asking again to use the toilet, and she remained mostly silent as her feet treaded upon the dry ground in time with her rapid heartbeat. Another warm droplet soaked into her panties and began to spread over her crotch.

Without warning a big surge took her. Groaning with effort Ellen sunk to her knees, pressing her hands uselessly against the rigidity of her Flexilon panties. She stemmed the surge, opened her clouded eyes, and stood, only for another surge to take her. Again she sunk and clenched and groaned, but this time felt a little squirt drum against the inside of her panties.

"Take those hands away, girl!" Anira snapped angrily, turning to grab Ellen's wrists and pull them from between her legs.

"Mistress, please!" Ellen squealed, tottering on clenched thighs. Her legs quivered and her muscles tensed themselves against the hard ball in her belly. She felt them beginning to give way as another surge came, this time sending a longer jet into her pants. She clenched harder, grunting with the effort, as her legs became rigid.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going, Mistress!"

"You'd better not be, girl!"

"I'm trying to stop it, but I can't! It keeps surging and I just can't stop it!"

"Follow." Anira said, rising from the chair and setting off at a fast pace across the greens. Ellen tried to walk, but found that she could not walk and clench so tight at the same time, and came to a jerking stop.

"What are you doing, girl?" Anira gasped in exasperation as the leash became tight. She turned and glared at Ellen. "Walk!" She ordered.

"I can't, Mistress, I can't!" She whimpered, and continued whimpering in distress as she felt the unmistakable feeling of hot urine trickling slowly from her body. The crotch of her panties became damper, moisture quickly spreading around them. A droplet formed on her thigh and ran slowly down the inside of her leg. "Mistress, please, I'm going to go! I really can't hold it!"

"You'll hold it alright, girl. Now come on."

"Mistress..." Ellen moaned. More drops began to run down her leg, but Anira tugged on the leash and pulled her forwards. She staggered and began to walk, pressing her fists between her legs even though it did no good through the rigid Flexilon. They were approaching the refreshments stand again. Ellen felt the eyes of people upon her as they walked back into the crowds, and felt her pale face burn red. She could feel in her hands the tiny wet patch at the front of her trousers, and wondered if one was visible from the rear. As her trousers brushed her skin she felt the unmistakable cold tickle of droplets on the backs of her thighs, and wondered if she had made a water trail down her trousers.

"Two water bottles, please." Anira said calmly, handing her card to the attendant. Ellen watched in horror as he handed two full bottles to Anira, which were passed straight to her. She whipped her hands away from her crotch quickly, hoping Anira didn't see them there. "Drink one." Anira hissed, as Ellen took the bottles in her clammy hands. She could feel the slow trickles in her pants starting again, knew that the small damp patch would be growing on her white trousers, and knew too that another big surge was coming. She stood on tiptoes, hoping that the trickles would run down her legs and onto the ground without touching the thin fabric.

"Mistress, I can't, please..." Ellen mumbled quietly, hoping only Anira would hear. "I really have to go, Mistress! I'm starting to go in my pants!"

Anira grabbed her collar forcefully and marched her forwards. The flow stopped in fear as much as anything, but the pain had not subsided. "You're what?" Anira hissed into her ear as she marched.

"I'm going in my pants!" Ellen whimpered. "I can feel it starting to run down my legs, Mistress, I'm really trying to hold on but I just can't stop it!" Her hands squeezed and fidgeted around the cold bottles, and from the haze in her eyes she could see everybody watching her. She knew she was only moments from tears. The urge was almost unbearable, and the pressure was stronger than her muscles could withstand.

"You go in your pants, girl, and it'll be the last time you ever go, even if I have to glue your hole shut. Do you understand me?" Anira whispered, then gave Ellen a push as she let go of her collar and stood upright. Ellen stumbled but corrected herself, standing up. She looked ahead and saw that she was being marched towards the toilet block.

"Thank you, Mistress, thank you thank you thank you!" Ellen whimpered as she picked up her pace, but the leash became tight and pulled her back.

"Slowly, slave." Anira said, tugging gently on the tight leash.

Ellen's hips writhed as she slowed herself, taking tiny delicate steps towards the toilet block. Tiny little squirts drummed into her panties and trickled onto her inner thighs with almost every step, in little splattering rivulets that cooled as they fell down her legs.

It seemed to take an age to reach the toilet block, and Ellen found herself stopping to stamp her feet in frustration every time another surge grew. Sometimes it helped, but sometimes it didn't, and caused yet another jet to leak into her already sopping panty crotch.

Anira led Ellen into the toilet block and marched her before the full-length mirror. Ellen looked at herself, eyes red and puffy with tears, cheeks pale, red-blonde hair hanging scruffily around her neck. The crotch of her white trousers was dark and glistening with moisture, and damp splashes were visible all the way to her knees.

"Please, Mistress?" Ellen mewed, doubling over to control another surge.

"Drink one bottle -- all of it -- and then you may go." Anira ordered.

Ellen shook and stamped in pain and frustration. She was full of water, sick of it -- but she would have to drink more, if she was to find relief. With quivering fingers she unscrewed the top and gulped the bottle down.

"Good girl." She heard Anira say above the sound of the empty bottle clattering on the floor, but she was already dashing for the cubicle and pulling at the ties around her white trousers. The leash became tight suddenly and she stopped, crying out in desperation.

"Please, Mistress! You said I could go!"

"Not in the toilet. In the bottle."

"Mistress, why?" Ellen mewed as she crouched down, double-crossing her legs against another tremendous surge. She caught sight of a jet of liquid firing from between her legs in the mirror, and heard the sound of small drops of liquid splashing onto the floor by her feet.

"Pull down your trousers and stand up straight."

Ellen obeyed, standing up with her trousers around her ankles and her legs crossed firmly over one another, hips shaking continuously in pain and concentration. Anira stooped to pick up the discarded bottle and pushed it into Ellen's hands.

"Fill the bottle. No more."

"Mistress, can you take off my panties, please?"

"Of course not, girl! I don't have the key! You'll have to go through them."

Ellen moaned and rolled her hips, but knew there was no way out of it. She must go -- she must go right now. Carefully unfolding her legs she jammed the bottle mouth against the hard fabric, letting her aching muscles relax just a little. Against the cloth she felt the drumming of urine jetting against it, felt her panties swell and weigh down with the liquid they tried to contain. Quickly it seeped through, deep between her legs near her buttocks and began to splash onto her trousers, missing the bottle entirely.

"In the bottle, naughty girl!" Anira snapped, whipping an unexpected slap to the back of Ellen's damp legs. She squealed in surprise, quickly pushing the bottle further under herself between her damp thighs, until she felt the warm stream run over her hands. She glanced downwards, saw that the bottle was filling with a pale yellow fluid, although some ran over the bottle or trickled down her legs and collected on her thin trousers that hung around her ankles.

Ellen's bladder screamed in relief as her muscles relaxed fully and the stream increased to a gush. Quickly the bottle filled, as did her trousers, until a yellow stream ran away from them across the white tiled floor. All too soon the bottle had reached capacity, but still Ellen peed, overflowing it and sending a warm cascade across her hands that splashed all around.

"Stop, girl, stop! You've done enough!"

"I can't, Mistress, I can't!" Ellen screamed as she doubled over, trying to stem the flow. The stream between her legs danced as she moved, running back over her buttocks, down her thighs, flying from her in all directions.

"Bad girl, I told you to stop!"

Another sharp slap hit her buttocks and she whipped the bottle away, double-crossed her legs and bounced until the flow slowed to a trickle and then stopped. Her bladder still screamed for relief but at least it was a little less full and a little less painful. So she had just drunk one more bottle, but she must have let out a bottle and a half -- so it should be just the slightest bit easier.

"What do you say, girl?"

"Thank you, Mistress, but I still need to... Ow!" She recoiled from another slap to her damp buttocks, felt another little jet surge into her panties before she could stop it.

"You will learn some manners, girl, and you will learn not to stain my belongings."

Ellen looked at the floor, tried to take her eyes away from the pale puddle that was spread under her. It looked like so much, but felt like so little. Her bladder was still so stretched, the tickles in her belly almost unbearable. She kept her damp legs crossed together, tried not to wiggle her hips too much in case Anira slapped her again. "Yes, Mistress." She said quietly, pursing her lips against another big surge and trying not to let out a squeak of frustration.

"Pick up your trousers and we'll go back outside."

Ellen looked down at her white cotton slacks, saw that they were soaked through. She couldn't go outside like that, but she couldn't disobey another of Lady Anira's commands. She fought a little indecision in her head before she bent over gingerly, grabbed the waistband of her trousers and wiggled them up between her clenched legs. She shot a quick glance in the mirror, saw how the crotch of her trousers was almost transparent, showing the pale pink of her thighs and the contrasting white of her Flexilon panties. Splatters and trails ran all the way down the trousers to soaked ankles. Even her toes felt damp in her white sandals.

"Look at the state of you, girl." Anira sighed tiredly. "You can't get in the car like that. Come on, you can lie down in the graylight for a while until you dry out."

"Yes, Mistress." She squeaked. The puddle splashed as she stepped out of it, squelched to the door and, feeling her skin burn red with shame, stepped into the graylight. She kept her narrowed eyes to the ground, saw little of where she was stepping as the harsh graylight filtered through the teardrops on her long lashes and filled her vision with slanting white lines. She felt her feet leave the path and touch first dust and then dry grass. Anira walked slowly and for that Ellen was grateful, for she could keep her thighs clenched tightly together against the pressure in her belly and take tiny ginger steps with only her ankles and lower legs moving.

No doubt anyone watching would know. No doubt they would see the stains and the trails and the tears on her red cheeks, they would see the way she walked, and they would know, but they would not care. Nobody in Minerva cared any more.

"Sit down here, girl." Anira said, lowering herself slinkily to the dry ground. Ellen obeyed, crouching carefully so as to keep her thighs pressed together, and sat on her damp buttocks. She felt the horrible lukewarm dampness press into her skin, itchy and irritating; she could feel every blade of grass beneath her skin, every lump of grit and every crack in the desiccated dirt.

"Lie down, girl, let the graylight dry your legs."

Ellen did as she was told, lowered herself carefully onto her back and rested her bushy red-blonde hair onto the grass. She brought her hands to her face and rested an arm across her eyes, shielding them from the light.

"There's a good girl." Anira said softly. "You'll be dry in twenty minutes."

Ellen clenched her thighs involuntarily as another big surge tried to force her bulging bladder's contents into her panties. She bit her lip and stifled a whimper of desperation -- another twenty minutes? It wasn't fair! The extra bottle she had consumed in the toilet was filtering through her water-filled stomach already, adding to the painful pressure inside her. She couldn't possibly last another twenty minutes! But she couldn't possibly say anything to Lady Anira, she simply wasn't listening. Maybe she was just going to make her wait until she exploded.

She felt a gentle hand tug at the hem of her blouse and lift it up a little way, exposing her distended belly to the warm light. Cool fingers with long, delicate nails touched her just below the navel, tickling her ever so gently, tracing up and down her tender skin with all the softness of a spring breeze. It was soothing, it eased the feeling of pressure inside her, and it made her relax. She let her legs fall open a little way, then slammed them shut again quickly as a little surge caught her unawares and forced a tiny jet into her drying panties.

"Your panties would dry quicker of you opened your legs, girl." Anira said softly.

"I don't think I can, Mistress." Ellen replied.

"My poor girl." Anira sighed. "Will you try, for me?"

Ellen tried again, pulled her legs slowly apart, felt another big surge coming and shut them just in time. She repeated, opened them again, then slammed them shut.

"Good girl. They'll dry quicker if you do that."

Ellen kept up the motion, opening her legs for as long as she dared and then closing them swiftly whenever she felt that a surge was about to make her lose control. Once or twice she was a little too slow, the surge a little too fast, and a few more droplets spattered onto the inside of her panties and ran down between her buttocks, but at last her trousers were drying. Lady Anira continued to tickle her belly gently, soothing the pain inside her.

"You've been a good girl for me today." Anira sighed, at long last. "Turn over and let your little bottom dry, and then we'll go home."

"Yes, Mistress." Ellen whispered, turning over carefully despite warning demands from her bladder that any sudden moves could cause a sudden evacuation. She felt the warm light hit her back, rested her head on her crossed arms, and tried to relax. It felt nice to be outside for a change, in the searing heat of Gray, listening to the regular citizens of Minerva going about their daily business. She tried to ignore the fizzing urge in her belly, tried to keep her legs clenched together against the pressure while the graylight dried her trousers.

"Look at that mess..." Anira sighed, but it was a sweet sigh, playful and good-natured. She felt Anira's fingers on her damp buttocks, brushing off the dust and grass that had stuck to her trousers. Anira's nails continued to touch her long after the worst of the dust should have been cleared, and where her sensations were not blocked by her Flexilon panties it felt delicious. Anira hadn't touched her intimately for a long time. "You've been such a sweet girl today. I know I've been cruel, but you had to be punished. If you can be a good girl until we get back home, I might have a special treat for you tonight."

Ellen felt her face flush as Anira's nails trailed up and down the backs of her thighs, tickling her gently and making the blood rush between her legs to those parts of her body that had been neglected for too long. "Yes, Mistress."

"I thought maybe we could clean off the swing-bed on the veranda and make love to the grayset. Would you like that?"

"Yes please, Mistress."

"Good girl."

The graylight did its job, and although Ellen had to clamp her legs together tightly every time a big surge took her, she dried out quickly. On a few occasions the surges were more than she could bear, and a few more trickles patted inside her panties, but there was simply nothing she could do to stop them, and with her crotch to the grass Lady Anira could not have noticed. She hoped the wet patch would be small enough to pass mostly unnoticed -- with the stains on her trousers people were bound to look anyway. At least Lady Anira was going to give her a nice treat once they got home, and despite her desperation she felt a growing sense of anticipation that she might get some much-wanted attention soon.




Drink: a Circle of Denial Story



"You look like you've dried off enough, girl. Stand, and let's go."

"Thank you, Mistress." Ellen said, with urgency lurking in the shadows of her words. It was a half-hour drive back to the house, and although the sports car was smooth the roads of Minerva could be rough, and each bump would pose a new challenge for her.

Ellen walked carefully back to the car, keeping her legs as close together as possible. Her trousers had dried but her panties were still a little damp between her legs, and every so many paces she could not help adding a little trickle to the water they held, no matter how hard she tried to keep it from getting out.

She stood as patiently as she could by the car, hips wiggling from side to side in a vain attempt to relieve the urge in her belly. Anira seemed to take her time to unclip her leash and open the door, in which she stared longingly at the soft leather seat where she could sit with her legs crossed to help ease the strain on her tired muscles. Another surge took her while she waited and she bobbed up and down to resist it, relaxing once it had passed, only to be caught unawares by a second which sent a jet of liquid squirting into her panties. She felt the warm liquid collect there, felt it scroll down between her legs and run onto her inner thighs. Thankfully the flow stopped as quickly as it had begun, but it was enough to run a little river down her left leg. She adjusted her weight, straightened her leg subtly so that the drops might miss her loose slacks and run straight into her damp socks without Anira noticing.

"What are you doing, girl?"

"Nothing, Mistress." She replied almost instantly.

"Then stand properly."

"Please, Mistress, can't I just get in the car?"

"You will wait, girl, until I am ready. Stand still."

Ellen obeyed, stood as still as she could manage, tried not to sink to her knees when another surge came, but she resisted. Only a few tiny drops leaked into her panties, which thankfully contained them without spilling down her legs. Finally Lady Anira packed the leash away into her bag and opened the door. "Sit down, girl."

"Thank you, Mistress." Ellen replied, swiftly twisting into the car and depositing herself into the seat before another surge took her. The motor started, its subtle vibrations coming through the seat and making her belly feel heavy and strange, and at last they cruised out of the car park and onto the highway.

Every bump on Minerva's rough roads was agony. Ellen bit her lip and clenched her muscles and pressed her legs together, her clammy palms gripping at her cotton slacks like clamps. Her seatbelt pressed at her belly but Anira forbade her from loosening it. The warm wind whipped at her bushy hair and the graylight lanced at her tired eyes, and her muscles screamed at being clenched for so long. She felt her hands opening and closing of their own accord, felt her hips wiggling from side to side, felt her toes bouncing on the black carpet, but it was all happening automatically -- she was no longer in control, so frantic was she driven by the urgency of her desperation. She had been holding on for what felt like a lifetime, and she just could not bear it any more. Not for much longer, anyway.

Finally Anira's house rolled into view and they bounced up the driveway. Ellen tensed every muscle in her body as the car rocked over the bumps until they drew to a halt. Anira left the car first and Ellen remained seated, until finally her door was opened and she was allowed to stand. Anira fumbled with her keys, delayed to watch a passing flock of birds, dropped her keys, fumbled with them again, before opening the door.

"Here we are, girl. Home again." She sighed distantly as she held the door for Ellen. She gingerly tip-toed in, her hands shifting around the hem of her blouse, gripping and pulling it in sheer desperation. She made a bee-line for the door that led to the sanctuary of the bathroom, but Anira caught her by the loop on her collar. "Not yet, girl. Here." She thrust the last bottle of water into her unwilling hands. "Go and stand outside, and drink this."

"Mistress, please, I really don't think I can..."

"I wasn't asking, girl. Outside. Now."

"Yes, Mistress." Ellen intoned, and tip-toed carefully to the back door that led out onto the veranda. It was a very private garden, with tall hedges and fences that kept prying eyes from regarding them. A swing-chair hung in the shade of the vines, its seat covered with dead leaves; a little iron table stood next to it, its white paint flaking in the heat.

Ellen padded carefully to it, wincing as another surge forced a little jet out of her body and into her panties. She was rapidly losing control, and her muscles were tiring -- she wasn't sure how much more she could take. She just had to go, the urge was so insistent that she just couldn't take much more.

Anira stepped onto the veranda a moment later. "Go and stand in front of the swing-chair, my pet." She said. Ellen obeyed, and watched as Anira brushed the dead leaves from the seat. "And drink that water."

Again Ellen reluctantly obeyed, unscrewing the top with clammy hands and putting it to her lips. The water had warmed and tasted flat as it trickled down her throat and into her bulging stomach. Anira returned to the house, emerged a moment later with a clock, which she put onto the table facing Ellen. "Twenty minutes. If you can last twenty minutes, you can join me on the chair." She said. "I want to see that bottle empty when I get back." She returned again to the house.

Two minutes passed, during which Ellen's heart began to thunder in her head and the water in the bottle slowly trickled down her throat. More big surges took her, and she managed to keep most of them at bay, save a few little droplets that collected in her panties and soaked up around her crotch. Anira returned, having changed into a beautiful lacy chemise that seemed to reveal more of her slinky body than if she was naked. She carried something in her hands, which she placed carefully on the table.

It was Ellen's own personal vibrating egg -- the one that was used only on her. She hadn't seen it in -- what was it, weeks? Months? A long time. Far too long, her body said. Just looking at it was enough to make her gulp. Anira loved to use it on her, and she loved it when Anira used it on her. That egg, along with Anira's tongue and fingers, could do things to her that she had not thought possible.

"Seventeen more minutes, girl. Is that water gone? Come on, all of it, now."

Ellen poured the last few droplets into her mouth and tried to screw on the lid. Her fingers shook so much that it fell from her hands and clattered to the floor.

"Leave it, girl, just let it go. Stand there. Sixteen minutes."

Anira sank slowly into the seat, set it rocking, and drew her knees up to her chest. Her hands began to wander her body as her eyes roamed Ellen's; Ellen felt them probing her, gazing at her face, staring through her blouse, examining the stains and the coin-sized damp patch at her crotch. She both loved and hated they way Anira could undress her with her eyes, and she loved and hated to be made an object of Anira's gratification when she played with herself. She could not help but watch as Anira lifted her chemise and placed her fingers at her sex, began to move them rhythmically.

"Fourteen minutes."

"Mistress." Ellen said, bobbing on her knees to withstand a big surge. "Mistress, please, I really can't hold on much longer."

"Thirteen minutes."

"Please, Mistress?"

"Please what?"

"Please may I go?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Do you want to join me on this couch, girl?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Then you will hold on. Twelve minutes."

Seconds ticked slowly past like hours. Time and again Ellen sunk almost to her knees to withstand the surges. She leaked a little with almost every one, and each time the surges became greater and the leaks a little bigger. She could feel the wet patch spreading once again in her panties.

"Is that a trail down your leg, girl?"

"No Mistress." Ellen whimpered immediately, without even taking her eyes off of Anira's rhythmically circling hand between her legs.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good girl. Nine minutes."

"I can't last nine minutes, Mistress!"

"You've lasted all day, you'll last nine more minutes."

"I can't! I have to go now! Please, I really can't bear it! I really can't take any more, I just have to go now!"

"Eight minutes."

Ellen gave an extended whimper as another long surge sent a jet of fluid into her panties. She lifted her knees in turn, walked on the spot, her heels tapping her buttocks with every step. Her heart pounded in her head but was deafened by the demands of her bladder.

"Mistress, it really, really has to be now!" She mewed.

"No it doesn't."

"Yes, it does!"

"Seven minutes."

"I can't do seven minutes!"

"Seven minutes, girl." Anira said, her voice becoming breathier.

Ellen's hands swung behind her back, clamped together, tangled with the loose tail of her blouse and pulled the material tight. Tears welled in her eyes and began to run down her cheeks along with a trickle from her panties. There really was no way she could manage much more of this.

"Are you leaking, girl? Don't lie to me."

"Yes, Mistress." She whispered, nodding when she realised her quiet and squeaky her tight voice had become. It took all of her effort and concentration just to stop the leak, let alone string words together.

"Five minutes."

Another big surge came and she tried all she could to keep her bladder's contents at bay. Her face creased and tears began to cascade down her cheeks.

"Oh, you poor thing!" Anira said, her hand still working between her legs. "Don't cry, be brave. Only four minutes to go. Is that another leak?"

Ellen nodded, too lost in concentration to speak. One leg rose, then the other, then the first again, one after the other in succession, but the leak just got bigger, until she felt it running down her thighs and splashing from her shins. She thrust both feet back to the floor, bobbed up and down until the flow stopped.

"Good girl. Three minutes."

Another surge came, her bladder screaming "Now!" in her head. She sank to her knees, resisted all but a tiny jet. No sooner had she risen came another surge, and this time a little more escaped, followed by another, and then another. She felt the jets starting and stopping almost rhythmically in her panties, heard the surging trickle sound from between her legs.

"I told you to hold it, girl." Anira said. "Come on, stop that flow for just two more minutes, and you can go inside."

Ellen tried. She wanted to join Anira on the swing-chair, she so wanted for her lips to be Anira's hand, she wanted for her face to be buried between those pale, slender legs, but she just could not stem the flow. The surges were bigger each time, the gushes more powerful, until it was no good. She sank to her knees, fell forwards, tried to pick herself up, but it was too late.

The clock ticked over to one last long minute as her muscles gave up completely. She felt her painfully-distended bladder emptying like an upended bucket through her legs, gushing like a waterfall into her white slacks. Tears poured down her face in unison, splashing onto the backs of her clenched fists as warm liquid jetted from her thighs, knees and flying ankles in all directions. She was soaked through, her socks and sandals sodden, splashing in her puddle as she lifted her feet one after the other, still trying to hold on even though her muscles had rebelled and no longer listened. Through her tears she gazed longingly at the egg on the table, saw as Anira gave her a look of disdain, picked it up and took it back into the house.

Ellen was left alone on the veranda as the last of her bladder's contents trickled down her now-stilled legs. A little river ran over the flagstones and dripped off the end of the steps, little splashes dropping from her out-thrust buttocks to the puddle at her feet. Warmth turned cold in the afternoon air and she was finally relieved, but she was sore, empty and alone.

Anira had gone. The vibrator had been withdrawn. She had been a bad girl, and she would get no reward.

A moment later Anira returned. "The bathroom is unlocked." She said curtly. "Put your clothes into the washer and go shower. Dry yourself as best you can when you are done, and I will come to change your underwear once you're finished."

"Can I join you here once I'm..." Ellen began, but Anira cut her off.

"We'll see, girl." She said, somewhat harshly. She sighed, then continued in a softer voice. "I know you tried hard for me. You tried to be a good girl. Once I've changed your underwear, maybe you can come sit with me and watch the grayset."

Ellen sighed. She knew what that meant. She knew that Lady Anira would watch the grayset, but Ellen would see nothing, for her eyes would be tightly shut, her lips puckered and her tongue working overtime. It was not the reward she had hoped for, but it was reward enough that tonight she may be allowed to bring pleasure to her beautiful lady, and if she finished fast enough, she may be allowed to lie next to her while the last rays of Gray disappear beyond the dusty horizon.

Ellen glanced at the empty table, at the seat where Anira settled herself and resumed her rhythmic stroking, at the puddle she had left on the veranda. She turned to the house and waddled inside to shower alone.